


pleasurable penile permutations

by tryslora



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: daily_deviant, Knotting, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Penis Modification, Reverse Knotting, Self-Lubrication, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, magical penis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 07:39:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6070833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The box is from Pleasurable Penile Permutations, filled with pairs of magical sweets for them to try. The catch is, they have no idea what the sweets will actually <i>do</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pleasurable penile permutations

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for January's Daily Deviant, where everything old was new again. Somehow, I do not know how, I did not already use the theme of penis modification. I am shocked! And of course, I had to rectify that oversight immediately.

At first, it looks like a standard bag from Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, sitting there quietly on one corner of the kitchen table. Draco reaches in, withdraws a small box with a series of three interlocking Ps that look remarkably like… “Potter, is this logo made of entangled penises?”

“Pleasurable Penile Permutations.” Harry glances over from where he’s up to his elbows in the sink doing dishes the Muggle way. “I thought we might give something a try.”

“Pleasurable Penile Permutations,” Draco says dryly. He opens the box and inside there are six compartments, each containing what appear to be two small sweets. There are no labels, no description, and no instructions. “What makes you think this is something we ought to be doing? Or even that it’s safe?”

“George made it.” Harry grabs a tea towel and dries his hands, then flicks his wand at the rack of dishes to cast a heat spell over them so they’ll dry as well. He tosses the towel toward the counter, where it hangs itself upon a hook. “And he’s tested all possible permutations thoroughly—or in the case of the pack designed for two men like that one, he’s had Charlie and his partner test. I’m assured there’s nothing dangerous about them. They just add a bit of excitement and spontaneity to an evening.”

“If we have to plan to eat a particular sweet, it’s not spontaneous,” Draco points out, and Harry laughs and wraps his arms around Draco’s middle from the back, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

“It’s what happens that’s spontaneous, because we have no idea what they’ll do. So.” Harry nods at the box. “Shall we try a pair?”

There is a part of Draco that wants to object. He likes _control_. He likes knowing how things work, likes knowing how to take Harry apart moment by moment. He likes knowing that everything will be perfect before he begins.

However, Harry has requested this, and Draco loathes the idea of disappointing him.

“Fine, Potter,” he grumbles. “How does this work?”

Harry lets go of Draco so he can reach for the box. He neatly punctures the seal over one of the six compartments with his thumb and the two sweets spill out onto his palm. In the light, Draco can clearly see that they are marked _top_ and _bottom_. Harry puts one in each hand and offers both to Draco, letting him choose at least that part of how the night will go.

Draco chooses _top_ , of course. Not only does he prefer it, but at least it will give him some measure of control when in every other respect he might be helpless. He holds the sweet up between thumb and forefinger, and Harry matches him.

They pop them in their mouths at the same time, and Draco is overwhelmed by the strength of the _brightsweettart_ taste. He wrinkles his nose, tries to keep from making a face, then holds back a laugh when he sees that same expression echoed by Harry.

“I might tell George to back off on the taste a bit,” Harry says when he can speak.

“It certainly was unexpected.” Draco isn’t sure what he thinks should be happening, but he somehow expected there to be some sort of immediate reaction. Instead he has a lingering taste of lemons on his palette, and a craving for tea to counteract it.

This is not really the time for tea.

“Maybe we should adjourn to the bedroom,” Draco suggests. “Before one of us sprouts extra appendages or becomes uncontrollably insatiable.”

“George wouldn’t do that.” Harry’s brow is drawn together in a frown, and Draco can’t resist reaching out to smooth the lines away. “Uncontrollable wouldn’t be safe.”

“And yet, Weasley would find it a grand prank to leave someone so hungry for sex that they remain aroused after orgasm until the effect wears off,” Draco says dryly. “Please do remember who created this, Potter, and that his humor may impact your pleasure.”

“Then let’s get to the bedroom and strip, so I can check your body and make absolutely positively certain that nothing’s grown or otherwise become _wrong_.” Harry tugs on Draco’s shirt, unbuttoning it and pushing it over his shoulders. “If we want to wait that long to get undressed.”

“Are you becoming insatiable?” Draco asks, one eyebrow arching.

“I just want you as much as I always do.” Harry tugs him closer, kisses him hard. “ _Now_ , Malfoy.”

They stumble down the hall, pausing to undo clasps and buttons, pull down the zip of Draco’s trousers and undo the fly of Harry’s jeans. Draco steps out of his trousers mid-stride, leaving them in a puddle on the floor, and he tugs Harry’s shirt off his shoulders. By the time they reach the bed, Harry’s clad only in pants, and Draco’s lost everything somewhere along the way, although one sock still clings to his toes. He hops as gracefully as he can manage to get it off and toss it away, then nudges Harry backwards until he falls onto the bed.

Draco straddles him, cock brushing against the tent in Harry’s pants as he leans forward to brush a kiss against Harry’s lips. “Desperate, Potter?” he asks, grinding down just enough to tease him. “Do you want me to get you ready, make you fall apart with my fingers in your ass?”

Harry’s hips lift beneath him, fingers clinging to Draco’s shoulders as he holds him close. “Not desperate.” Harry’s words are breathy, ending in a low hiss as Draco drags his cock against Harry’s again. “Getting there. Get these damned pants off of me.”

Draco hooks his finger in the elastic band and tugs as he slides backwards. He tosses them somewhere—honestly, the house elf can clean up after them afterwards, he doesn’t _care_ right now. He has to lean over to open the drawer of the nightstand, grabbing a tin of expensive lubricant. He pops the lid off with one hand, dips his fingers in to get a good sized dollop before he returns to Harry, kneeling between Harry’s spread legs.

He sees a glistening in the tight puckered hole, and he reaches with his clean hand, pressing the tip of one finger against it. Draco’s finger slides in easily, and Harry groans, hip moving as if he can draw him further inside. “Fuck, Malfoy, that feels good.”

“You’re ready for me,” Draco murmurs. “Did you open yourself up before dinner, Potter? Did you use one of our toys, or did you use your fingers?” He slides a second finger inside of him, twisting them, curving them to stroke and tease.

“I didn’t…” The words exhale on a breath. “Fuck, Malfoy. I didn’t do anything.”

Draco stops, lets his finger slip out. “Potter, you’re wetter than a fanny.”

Harry snorts. “As if you know what a soaked fanny feels like. I’ve at least had that experience.” He twists, sliding one finger down, managing to slide it inside of himself. Draco watches as Harry slowly fucks himself on that one finger, letting it almost withdraw and catch on the rim. “Fuck, yeah. I didn’t do that.”

Draco holds up his other hand, fingers still coated in lube and arches one eyebrow. “Neither did I.”

There’s a moment’s pause, then Harry’s expression eases. “The sweet.”

 _Of course_. “I see.” Draco lets the words spill out slowly as he slowly works the lube over his cock. Just watching Harry fuck himself is enough to keep him hard, but he wants more than that. “In that case, it seems as if we’re going to be able to go hard and fast,” he murmurs.

Draco grips Harry’s wrist, slowly helps him withdraw his finger, then pins both his hands over his head. Draco rests in the cradle of his legs, prick sliding along prick for a moment as he gazes down at Harry. “Do you want to go hard and fast, Potter?” he asks softly. “Tell me, Potter. Tell me what you want.”

Harry’s hand flexes, and he tugs, so Draco lets him go. It only takes a moment for Harry to slide out from under Draco and flip over, pillow tucked up against his chest, head bowed over the top of it. His knees are spread, his ass presented to Draco perfectly, the hole dripping slightly from unexpected lubricant, open as if waiting for Draco to fuck right into him in one stroke.

“You’re beautiful like this, Potter,” Draco murmurs, smoothing his hand over the perfectly taut muscle of Harry’s bottom. He lets his thumb graze against Harry’s hole, feels it contract as he presses, and there’s an answering ache in his own prick. “I’m going to fill you up, fuck you until you can’t come any more. And you’re going to come without anyone touching you, just because you’ve got my cock inside of you.”

Draco digs his fingers into the soft flesh, uses his thumbs to part Harry’s cheeks, exposing him. Harry’s so slick, Draco wonders if he can just line himself up, slide in, but no… he needs to grip himself with one hand, gently feed the head of his cock past the tight ring. But from there it’s easy, and Draco pushes forward with one quick stroke, burying himself to the root.

“You feel so good,” he whispers as he starts to thrust, pulling halfway out before he pushes in again hard. Harry cries out, sound muffled by the pillow, and Draco does it again and again, feeling the way Harry’s body sways under his touch. Draco tilts his hips, angling himself to try to brush against Harry’s prostate, warmth coiling in his gut when Harry cries out again, shuddering.

He fucks him hard and fast, driving into him over and over, loving how _slick_ Harry is. He feels Harry’s rim catch at his prick, and he slows down, feeling a tug, and he sees how red his prick is where it’s buried inside of Harry. Red, thick, almost bulbous, stretching Harry’s rim unmercifully. Draco slides his thumb along it, shivering when he touches his own skin, pausing when Harry whines loudly.

“You’re so big,” Harry says. “Fuck, Malfoy, you’ve grown inside me. It’s like… I’m so full. It’s so good, you’re touching me everywhere.”

“Your ass is tight. You’ve locked right down around me.” Draco slides his thumb along the rim again, gives a little twitch of his hips and almost sees stars at the way Harry’s ass drags at his cock. He closes his eyes, rocks his hips, moving just that little bit. He’s still so aroused that his balls ache, but he can’t thrust anymore. He can barely move.

“Keep doing it.” Harry pushes himself backward, fucks himself on Draco’s thickened dick, and that’s the moment when Draco realizes what’s happened. That he has a _knot_ like a fucking _crup_. That he’s tied to Harry, that they’re going to be like this until Draco’s cock relaxes.

Which it won’t, not until he’s filled Harry’s ass multiple times.

 _Fuck_.

Harry moves again and Draco groans, clutching at his hips. “I want to…” Harry whines. “Malfoy, I want to…”

“Yeah.” Draco finds a new rhythm, rolling his hips lightly, barely moving, just enough to keep the motion going. And with every tiny stroke, he builds closer, knows he’s just about to tilt over the edge. “Fuck, Potter. I want you to come. I want you come so hard you black out.” He manages to get just enough leverage to drive into him, and Harry goes taut beneath him, crying out as he spills over the sheets.

Draco’s dick grows again, just enough that he can’t move at all, and then he’s pulsing inside of Harry, spilling deep and long. He moves just a little and it’s still so good, still absolutely perfect, just like this. “Fuck,” he whispers.

“You could say that.” Harry’s voice sounds like he’s on prescription potions, slow and easy and relaxed. “I think you’re stuck, Malfoy.”

“It seems so.” Draco slides his hands down Harry’s back, loves the way he arches into Draco’s touch. “Not only has my prick grown, your ass has tightened down around it, and I am very thoroughly locked in place.”

“Mmm.” It’s a long slow sigh of contentment. “I like it.”

“So do I.” Although if it is anything like an actual knot in nature, Draco knows that they should get comfortable. He tugs slightly, helps Harry ease onto his side, Draco curled behind him, their legs looped together. Draco ruts into him slowly, the pull of Harry’s rim almost too tight against his sensitive knot, but also oh so good.

“You going to come again?” Harry asks softly, and Draco responds by wrapping a hand around Harry’s cock.

“Not until you do.”

“Oh, fuck.” It comes out as a groan, Harry’s hips twitching to thrust into the tight circle of Draco’s fingers. He fucks himself between Draco’s hand and Draco’s cock, and Draco feels himself staying impossibly hard and thick, still caught by the knot. “Fuck me, Malfoy,” Harry whispers, and Draco is helpless to do anything else.

He rolls his hips, the motion lazy and slow, driving his knot deeper as he fucks Harry all over again. He waits for Harry’s cock to be thick and hard, waits for Harry to lose himself in the motion and sensation, for the words to lose all meaning as Harry cries out. And Draco spills inside of him for the second time as Harry covers his hand in sticky fluid.

Draco blinks and time has somehow passed as they lay there, relaxed and blissed. He is idly rutting into Harry again, and he rolls Harry onto his stomach, pulls the pillow beneath his hips as he fucks into his sleepy husband. The knot is smaller know, still catching on the rim, still pleasurable, but he knows that after this he’ll be able to pull out. Harry is sloppy wet inside, and Draco is able to move from slow thrusts to quick hard strokes as Harry wakes up. He finishes first and his cock finally goes flaccid and he is able to withdraw.

Harry rolls to one side, and Draco takes Harry’s prick in his mouth, sucks it lightly and fingers Harry with all four fingers until Harry comes with weak spurts.

“I think that I am a mess, and completely done,” Harry murmurs.

“As am I.” Draco gathers him in, lies back with Harry against his chest. One spell tugs the covers up over them both, makes them as comfortable as he can, while another cleans the worst of the stickiness from the sheets and their skin. There will still be a mess in the morning, but they will deal with it. It’s a small price to pay. “Perhaps next time you ought to ask Weasley if there’s a pamphlet that explains the potential penile permutations.”

Harry huffs a laugh. “Or we could just eat another set of sweets. Turned out pretty good this time, didn’t it?”

Draco has no argument against that logic. “Or we could do that,” he admits, one hand stroking over Harry’s back. “But I do think we should ask him for more of this particular pairing.”

“Because you liked having a big dick.” Harry pokes Draco’s side on each word.

“Because it was pleasurable,” Draco counters, because it was. Exceedingly so.

And yes. He rather liked having a big prick, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me [on tumblr](http://tryslora.tumblr.com)!


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